


love languages

by sparkagrace



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-07 13:56:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14082435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkagrace/pseuds/sparkagrace
Summary: There are five love languages.Scott and Tessa are fluent in them.





	1. acts of service

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what I'm doing. I never write RPF but these two won't leave my head so I guess here's my way of dealing with that. This is short five-part series, each one dealing with a different 'love language'. My knowledge of the sport is pretty basic so I apologise if it's all wrong.

He feels his phone vibrate before it rings. He raises a sleepy hand towards the phone, trying to grab it to see who would be calling so late. His eyes focus on the name on the display ( _Virtch_ ) and he’s wide awake before the second ring.

 

“Tessa?” His voice is dry from sleep and sounds hoarse. He clears his throat before trying again. “Tess?”

 

He can hear faint sniffing and traffic noises on the other end of line and his stomach lurches.

 

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asks. Scott can hear Kaitlyn shuffle in the bed next to him, but he ignores her and focuses back on his partner.

 

“Scott?” Her voice sounds small and faint. He can’t hear her very well. “I’m sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.”

 

“It’s fine. Are you okay?” He presses. His mind keeps thinking the worst. It’s almost 2am. He can’t imagine Tessa being anywhere good at this time if she’s calling him in tears.

 

He can hear her voice quaver. “I’m locked out of my house.” She explains. “Do you have the spare keys?”

 

“Uh, yeah,” Scott looks around the dark room; keeping his voice as low as possible to avoid waking Kaitlyn. He pads towards the living room as quickly as possible, trying to keep Tessa on the phone as long as he can. “Where are you?”

 

“I’m outside my house.”

 

“Are you safe?” She’s probably nodding into the phone, forgetting that he can’t see her. “Tess?”

 

“Yeah.” She replies but she sounds distant. Scott is rooting around in his hallway cabinet, cursing himself for not organizing it three weekends ago when he said he would. He finds Tessa’s spare keys; a gold key attached to a keychain of Scott and Tessa as young teens. All teeth and gangly limbs. It was a silly Christmas gift from Danny. It’s awkward and they look like the mid-2000s threw up on them, but Scott kind of liked it, and when he exchanged spare keys with Tessa, it was the only keychain he wanted to put it on.

 

“Good, you wanna stay on the phone until I get there?” He asks. “I’ve got your keys. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay.” Scott is pulling on his shoes. “Are you alone?”

 

Scott knows that Tessa is casually seeing some skier or something. Tessa had mentioned he was in town and that she’d be busy showing him around Ontario. They had made soft plans for a double date—him and Kaitlyn, Tessa and her skier—but they both knew it would never _actually_ happen. Nowadays Tessa rarely introduced Scott to her boyfriends.

 

When they were younger, it was different; she kind of treated Scott as a surrogate big brother and eager for his approval. He didn’t really approve of a lot of them; he had hated Fedor with a passion. Scott had kept it to himself (mostly). He knew that it disappointed Tessa when he didn’t like her choices, so he tried to avoid upsetting her if he could. He guessed it was the same for him. He usually tried to avoid Tessa meeting any of his girlfriends as long as possible. He had gone through so many of the same fights with his exes. All of those fights usually occurring within three months of them meeting Tessa, after which they would start showing up to practice and attend competitions. It was the same old story.

 

Scott meets girl.  Scott and girl spend a blissful few weeks or, if lucky, months together in their own little bubble. Scott introduces girl to Tessa. Scott and girl get into fights. Scott spends the next few weeks attempting to reassure girl that he and Tessa are _just. friends._ Scott and girl break up.

 

Rinse. Repeat.

 

“What’s going on?” He hears Kaitlyn’s concerned voice behind him. “Where are you going?”

 

“It’s Tessa.” He says as if that explains everything. A lot of the time it does. Kaitlyn is a bit too far away for Scott to gauge her reaction but he knows she probably needs more information. “Hold on a sec,” he says to Tessa on the phone before turning back to his girlfriend. “She’s locked out and needs her keys.”

 

Kaitlyn looks him up and down and nods. “Okay,” she says and disappears back into the bedroom. Scott is tying up his shoes when he hears Kaitlyn come back out of the room with a pair of track pants and a sweatshirt. “At least wear some clothes.”

 

Scott notices then that he’s only in boxers and a tank top. He takes the clothes gratefully as Kaitlyn kisses him lightly on the shoulder.

 

“I’ll see you when you get back.”

 

“Go back to sleep. Sorry I woke you.” He says quietly. Kaitlyn offers him a soft smile before going back into the bedroom. He turns back to his phone. “Tess, you still there?” He asks.

 

“Yeah,” Tessa says into the phone. He had no idea how long she’s been out there already, but he can tell that she’s starting to feel cold. He can hear her teeth chattering into the phone.

 

“I’m on my way.”

 

He pulls up to her house thirteen minutes later. At this time of night there’s barely any traffic and he takes advantage of the empty streets to speed along a little faster. He can’t see her at first and begins to worry. She had been on the phone with him until he had made the final turn onto her road when he told her he was almost there.

 

He’s reaching for his phone when he sees movement and the glow of a phone on the porch. He gets out of the car as quickly as he can, almost tripping over the sidewalk. Tessa is sitting on the steps in tears, and she cries harder when she sees him.

 

“Tess, oh Tess.” He coos as he reaches her. He grasps her hand and feels how cold they are. He wraps his hands over her shoulders. “Hey, don’t cry.”

 

Tessa turns into his embrace and buries her head in his chest. She’s mumbling something that he can’t make out. “Let’s get you inside.” He tells her as he gets her into a standing position and coaxes her towards her door. He can feel her shivering beside him as he fumbles with her front door.

 

Finally he’s able to unlock the door and he pushes her inside, turning on the lights as he goes. He gets a good look at Tessa as she wipes at her eyes and she groans at her appearance in the hallway mirror.

 

“Urgh, I look awful.” She complains. She peels off her coat and Scott notices the very nice blue dress underneath it. She had clearly been somewhere special.

 

“Well, I told you not to put a mirror here. The lighting’s terrible.” He jokes. He hopes that it will cheer her up but the joke falls flat. Or at least she only really manages a tight smile. “What happened tonight, Tess?”

 

She looks at him, considering her options, and then shrugs. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

 

“Well, I’m not going to let you go to bed upset.” He tells her.

 

“I’m tired, Scott.” She tries.

 

“T, you called me in the middle of the night in tears. This wasn’t just about a lost set of keys.” Scott runs a hand through his hair. “Look, I’ll make us some tea. Go and change into something more comfortable, okay?”

 

This time Tessa doesn’t complain and she shuffles to her bedroom while Scott goes towards the kitchen. It’s an immaculate kitchen; not like his own, mostly owing to the fact that Tessa doesn’t really cook that often. He knows exactly where everything is, he’s probably spent as much time here as he has in his own kitchen. Scott has probably cooked here more than Tessa has. He pulls out her favorite mug and the one he usually uses (a grey mug with tiny white maple leaves all over it) and fills up her kettle.

 

They’ve been friends for eighteen years. They’ve had more than their fair share of tears in that time. He thinks most of them have actually been shed by him, but he knows that Tessa gets pretty emotional too. Not lately. But she does.

 

He’s not going to leave her alone when she’s like this. The kettle boils and he rubs the sleep out of his eyes, willing himself to stay awake as long as it takes.

 

By the time he has made up a batch of chamomile tea for them and reached her bedroom, he suddenly worries that she’s already asleep. He knocks on her door (not an easy task seeing as he has two hot mugs of tea in his hands) and gently pushes it open. She’s in her pajamas and facing away from him as she lies on top of her bed. He thinks that she’s asleep for a moment but she turns to look at him when he steps in further. He puts the mugs down on the bedside table and sits up over the covers next to her.

 

“So, what’s up?” He asks. Tessa is silent for a few moments and, when Scott makes it obvious he’s not leaving until she talks to him, she lets out a heavy sigh.

 

“Ryan and I broke up.” She explains before pinching her eyes shut. “I mean, _he_ broke up with me.”

 

“Well, he’s an idiot.”

 

“Scott!” she groans. “You don’t have to say that.”

 

“I’m not _just_ saying it. It’s true!”

 

“Yeah, well.” She covers her eyes with an arm. “It wasn’t pretty. I kind of had a meltdown on the way home.”

 

“Did he drop you off?”

 

“No, he went back to his hotel and I got a cab.” Tessa explained, reaching for her tea. It’s too hot to drink but she attempts a small sip.

 

“He made to get your own cab?” Scott asks, incredulous. She sighs again, clearly not wanting to rehash the recent memory. Scott starts moving off the bed. “Which hotel is he at?”

 

“What are you planning to do, Scott?” Tessa asks with a roll of her eyes. “It’s not a big deal.”

 

“Tess, he can’t break up with you like that. What an asshole. I’ve never liked him. I knew from the beginning he was a fuc—” Scott’s rant is broken when Tessa bursts into tears again. His anger dissipates and in seconds he’s by her side, curling her into the crook of his shoulder and whispering comforting words.

 

“I didn’t even think I liked him _that_ much,” Tessa confesses finally when she is able to compose herself. “It was just meant to be a casual thing.”

 

Scott shuffles awkwardly. It’s not like he and Tessa have never discussed their partners or breakups before, but they usually dance around the subject of sex. They’re very comfortable with each other physically, they’ve watched plenty of movies and TV shows together with sex scenes, and they’re able to talk in depth about most other topics, but occasionally they get awkward around each other when it gets _serious_.

 

“He just said he didn’t see it going anywhere serious and I was confused because I thought it was going okay.” She shakes her head and Scott can smell alcohol on her breath. “We were having fun.”

 

“Tess, it doesn’t sound like it was anything you did. It’s his loss, eh?” He squeezes her, a reassuring hand on her back.

 

Tessa doesn’t reply but offers him a small nod in agreement. He knows she doesn’t believe it _yet_ but hopefully she’ll start coming around sooner. He doesn’t like to see Tessa upset, especially not when he can’t fix it.

 

They sit like that in silence for a few minutes. Scott guesses it’s at least fifteen, but he can feel Tessa begin to relax in his arms and he loosens his grip, conscious not to disturb her too much as he slowly untangles his arms from under her. He manages to wake her up enough to coax her under the covers; her eyes are mostly closed but she’s responding with hums and nods as she listens to his instructions.

 

He sits on the edge of the bed until he hears Tessa’s breathing start to even out, waits until he’s sure she’s asleep before gently getting up walking around her house, locking the front door securely, turning off the lights he left on, and making sure she’s got water and tissues on her bedside.

 

He knows from experience that Tessa’s a restless sleeper so he tries to be as quiet as he can. He sits in the kitchen for a few minutes, finishing off his tea and washing up the dishes. He could easily go back to his place but he wants to wait until Tessa settles. She’s got a spare bedroom down the hall and he’s starting to feel too tired to drive back to his place. Besides, he doesn’t really want Tessa to wake up alone.

 

Scott makes his way to her spare bedroom and peeks inside. It’s full of boxes and there are no covers on the bed. He guesses that no-one has come to visit in a while. Tessa’s been off travelling before that so there was no need to make up a bed for any visitors.

 

He considers his options for a few seconds before deciding he’s already made it this far and there’s really no point to drive back to his. They’ve slept in the same bed plenty of times so he goes back to her bedroom, peels off his sweatshirt and softly lies down next to Tessa.

 

When he wakes up in the morning, it takes him a few moments to realize where he is, and that the sleeping girl beside him is not the one he went to bed with earlier that night. Tessa’s still asleep and curled towards him. He slept above the covers like a respectful gentleman, but he’s starting to get a little cold and he looks around for his sweater. He sees it lying on the floor across from him and leans out to reach it. It’s further than he expects so he ends up rolling out of the bed and landing on the floor with a dull thud.

 

Tessa opens an eye and chuckles, her laughter muffled into her pillow. Scott’s head pops up and stares at her.

 

“That wasn’t funny.” He says. She nods.

 

“That was definitely funny.” She shuffles in her bed and opens the bedcovers for his side. “Get in.”

 

Scott looks at the clock on her bedside. It’s just after 6am. Maybe he should get back to Kaitlyn. But Tessa looks at him expectantly and she looks so small in that big bed, that he can’t bear to leave her. He’s sure the events of last night will hit her again and he’s hesitant for her to be alone when it does.

 

He clambers into the bed and gets under the covers, his cold feet hitting against hers and she squeals.

 

“I take it back, get out!” She cries. He takes it as a challenge and manages to recapture a leg of hers between his. She’s laughing and scrambling away but he’s stronger than her and she’s still too tired to actually try pushing him away.

 

They land into a companionable silence as they drift in and out of sleep over the next couple of hours. His phone rings just after eight, disturbing their peace, and he feels his stomach drop when he figures out who it is.

 

He thinks about the repercussions of not answering and Tessa doesn’t say anything. When he finally decides to answer, Tessa turns away from him and he immediately feels like he made the wrong choice.

 

It is Kaitlyn and she’s asking where he is.

 

She’s mad, obviously, because she woke up thinking he’s been hurt and the very least he could have done was text her, which is a fair point. While he’s reassuring Kaitlyn and apologizing, he hears Tessa get out of bed and enter her bathroom. She closes the door firmly with a click and Scott feels caught between his two worlds.

 

Kaitlyn reminds him that they have plans for brunch with some of her friends and asks if he still wants to go.

 

“Uh,” he pauses, and it’s a little too long for Kaitlyn’s liking because she sighs deeply on the other end.

 

“It’s fine. You and Tessa haven’t spent time together lately so… I get it.”

 

And Scott knows it’s a lie but he’s grateful for the out. He makes promises to make it up to her later and Kaitlyn ends the conversation with a rushed “I’m not mad” which Scott doesn’t quite believe.

 

Tessa isn’t surprised when she doesn’t see Scott in her room when she comes back. She took a shower straight away, wanting to wash away the bad parts of the night before. She didn’t have time to take off her makeup and her tongue feels heavy from the cocktails she was drinking. Tessa lets herself cry for a little while. She figures she’s entitled to it; having lost her boyfriend and surrendering her best friend to his girlfriend within twenty-four hours. She’s in the bathroom for a good thirty minutes before she feels brave enough to leave and face the day.

 

She’s tying up her robe when she hears the front door click open and then shut. Her head pokes out of her bedroom to find Scott carrying in some donuts and coffee from Tim Hortons and the sight is enough to make her want to burst into tears again. Happy, relieved ones this time.  

 

He gives her a lopsided smile and hands her a coffee. “Come on, Virtch. Time to seize the day.”

 

\---

 

Three weeks later, he and Kaitlyn break up. It’s mostly mutual. Scott wonders if he really fought as hard as he could have to keep it, but Kaitlyn seemed to have given him more than enough opportunities to step up, and he hadn’t. And that’s the part that probably hurts the most.

 

She tells him as much.

 

“You do have a fight in you, Scott. I’ve seen you go after things before. But not for me, and sometimes not even for you.” She leaves the answer hanging in the air. Scott isn’t sure if she’s not saying it because she wants him to admit it, or if she’s silent because she doesn’t want to give it a name.

 

She leaves, packing up a suitcase with things that Scott never noticed had accumulated in his house. They weren’t officially living together but he figures they near enough were. Maybe he should have made more of a gesture.

 

He doesn’t mention it to Tessa right away. He wants to prove to himself that he can get over it without her. But he guesses one of his brothers told her because she comes to his door the next day under the guise of her having ordered too much pizza.

 

He lets her in, because it’s Tessa and when has he ever not invited her into his home?

 

“Tess...” He tries to protest but Tessa’s already inside and finding plates in his kitchen. He follows her slowly, not wanting to discuss any of this with her now until he’s had time to process it himself.

 

“I brought _Bloodsport_.” She tells him. “We’ll watch it tonight.”

 

“You hate _Bloodsport_.” He replies but she’s not listening. She’s putting two six-packs of his favorite beer in his fridge, leaving two on the counter. “You don’t need to do this.”

 

She turns with a quizzical look in her eye. “Do what?” She asks, feigning ignorance. He wants to yell at her but he’s tired and the smell of melted cheese and pepperoni is filling the air and hitting his senses.

 

It’s easier to give in.


	2. receiving gifts

They don’t do gifts. It’s something they wordlessly agreed on sometime when they were teenagers. The first few birthdays and Christmases, sure, they invited each other to their birthday parties along with their classmates. There was always a card exchanged and something their moms wrapped up for them.

 

“It’s her birthday, you’ve got to get her _something_!” Alma admonishes Scott as he pouts in the backseat. He’s in a grouchy mood this morning on their way to pick Tessa up for training.

 

“I don’t know what she wants!” He replies, unsure of what ten-year-old girls are interested in. “Just pick something.”

 

Alma sighs heavily. “You’re partners, it’s important that you pick something yourself. She picked out that Maple Leafs jersey for you all by herself. Kate told me so.”

 

Scott glowers. It’s too early in the morning to be thinking about anything more than Saturday morning cartoons (all of which he’s missing because he has to go train at a cold rink over an hour away every week). They turn into Tessa’s street and Scott looks out of the window to see Kate and Tessa waiting outside their house. The car pulls up and Alma helps Kate put Tessa’s training gear in the back of the car, while Tessa gets in the back seat with Scott.

 

“Hi,” she says shyly. They’re still in that awkward stage of not knowing how to talk to each other but it’s improving. They’re able to share jokes and talk about school but it usually takes them a good couple of hours every practice before the conversation is able to run smoothly. It doesn’t help that the two of them are always half-asleep on their way to training. They wake up early every day for school and then at the weekends and Scott burns with jealousy when he hears of how his friends can spend their weekends doing whatever they want.

 

“Hey,” he replies. He’s holding his pillow with the Maple Leafs logo on his lap. He keeps falling asleep in the car and he hates the way the car shudders during the drive.

 

Kate and Alma get back into the car and Kate looks back at the two of them.

 

“Good morning, Scott!” She greets. “Tessa, did you invite Scott to your birthday party next week?”

 

Tessa blushes and Scott casts a glance over at Tessa and then back at her mom. “She already invited me,” he supplies. “I’m coming.” He looks over at Tessa and she gives him a small smile.

 

Twenty minutes into the journey, Scott feels his eyelids getting heavy and puts his pillow up between his head and the window. He’s woken up some time later when the car breaks suddenly and he lurches forward. He hears his mother curse and Kate is laughing. Scott looks over to his partner, sleeping in a very uncomfortable position on the other side. She doesn’t have a pillow and Scott knows that she’s going to end up with a very stiff neck.

 

He thinks about offering his pillow to her but she’s fast asleep, the sudden movement didn’t wake her up, and he decides his offer of his pillow is probably too stupid anyway.

 

By the time they get to the rink, Tessa has been sleeping most of the journey with her neck tucked in against her arms by the window. When she is woken up by her mom, Scott can see her grimace as she tries to work out the kinks in her shoulders.

 

After practice, Kate treats them all to a hot chocolate and they bundle back into the car. Scott’s already finished his but Tessa sips hers like a graceful young lady, taking her time to enjoy her hard-earned treat.

 

She stifles a yawn and Kate tells her she can nap on the way because they’ve got to visit family later and Tessa needs to be awake. Scott feels like he can see Tessa’s muscles already tense at the prospect of having to sleep against the window again. He holds up his pillow and offers it out to her.

 

“Oh no, you love that pillow.” She tells him.

 

“It’s okay, we’ll share it.” He puts it between them and they count to three and lean in at the same time. It’s not super comfortable by any means but it’s an improvement over how she was sleeping before. Scott doesn’t fall asleep as easily, frustrated by this new position, but Tessa is already asleep by the time they get on the freeway and she looks happier than before. Scott figures that’s all that matters. He can nap when he gets home.

 

After they drop Tessa and Kate back at their house and Tessa has gratefully thanked Scott for sharing his pillow, Alma asks if he wants to go back home or if he wants to come grocery shopping with her.

 

“I’ll come grocery shopping but can we go to the mall afterwards?” He asks. Alma shoots him a quizzical look because Scott hates shopping, much less going to overcrowded malls on a Saturday. He scratches his head. “I want to get Tessa a gift.”

 

The next week, Tessa practically sleepwalks to the car. Her birthday party is tomorrow but Scott can’t wait. She opens the door and finds a huge Marvin the Martian body pillow in her seat. She frowns in confusion and then sees the bow that Scott stuck on the top.

 

“Happy birthday, Tessa!” He says. She’s still staring at the pillow and then she laughs.

 

“It’s so big.” She says in amazement. Scott moves Marvin to make room for Tessa and she climbs in the backseat, poking at the pillow.

 

“It’s so we can sleep in the car better.” He holds up his Maple Leafs pillow. “This way we both have one and can make a mega pillow!” He holds his arms out to emphasize his point and she laughs again. He kind of likes that sound.

 

“This is great! Thank you so much, Scott.” They haven’t yet reached the hugging stage yet but she holds up her hand for a high five and he hits it with a bit more force than he should do for a ten-year-old girl. She winces slightly but it’s not enough to wipe the smile off of her face.

 

As Alma starts the car up, Tessa and Scott hold their pillows up between them.

 

“Ready? One, two, three!” Scott calls as they both lean at the same time and meet in the middle.

 

Scott sleeps with a smile on his face.

 

\---

 

Presents and cards fall on the wayside by the time they hit their teens. It’s too much effort to try and think of what to get each other, as well as their families and their significant others. They spend most of their time together anyway so it’s not like either of them need a memento of their friendship. Scott arrives at the rink late on his twenty-first birthday. It’s a training day so no day off for this milestone, but there’s a party planned at the weekend and it can’t come fast enough.

 

Tessa is doing some stretches and when she sees him, she grins wickedly.

 

“Hey old man.” She greets as she stretches out a leg. Scott sticks his tongue out at her and pushes her lightly. She stumbles a bit but he’s unconcerned when she chuckles. “Be careful, you wouldn’t want to throw out your back!”

 

Scott shakes his head in amusement as he settles in a chair nearby. “Yeah, yeah. It’ll be your turn soon, T.”

 

“Nah, I’ll always be young and beautiful,” she jokes. He looks at her and takes a swig of from his water bottle. Tessa swears he can hear him say something under his breath, but she ignores it because she’s jogging over to her training bag and fishing something out of it.

 

Scott’s looking at his phone when he sees a shadow looming over him. He glances up to see Tessa holding out a small white box with a blue ribbon.

 

“What’s this?” He asks as he takes the box from her hand.

 

“I know we don’t really do gifts, but it’s a big birthday now and wanted to get you something.” She explains with a nervous smile. “It’s only small.” She says.

 

He hasn’t received a proper gift from Tessa since his eighteenth birthday, but that was really from the whole Virtue clan. They had all chipped in together to get him a new pair of skates and tickets to a Maple Leafs game. It had been an amazing gift and hugely appreciated by Scott, who considered the Virtues part of his extended family.

 

This one was from Tessa. Just Tessa.

 

“You can open it now or later or whatever.” She’s telling him just as he’s opening up the box.

 

Inside is a shiny penny. He picks it up and inspects it.

 

“Um, I found it a few months ago back home. It had 1987 printed on it and I thought of you because apparently it’s lucky. It’s silly, I’m sorry.” She’s spiraling and Scott thinks it’s adorable how nervous she’s getting.

 

“No, no, I love it. Thanks!” He reaches up to hug her and she relaxes into his embrace. He can feel her breathe into his shoulder and he squeezes her tighter. After they break apart, Tessa gives him a quick kiss on the cheek.

 

“I know it’s your birthday and all, but you’re fifteen minutes late and I think Marina’s going to have a conniption if we’re not out on the ice soon.” She says. “I’m going to go do some laps around the rink.”

 

“I’ll be there in a bit,” he promises, rubbing a thumb over the cool coin. “Thanks again, T.”

 

She disappears down the hall towards the rink, leaving Scott to warm up on his own. He’s still holding the penny in his hand, marveling at the details and reading the year over and over again. He likes that it made her think of him enough to keep it aside and give it to him, and it warms his heart to know this small token means so much to both of them.

 

He slips the penny back in the box and stores it safely away in his bag.

 

Tessa never asks about the penny again, but she’s still excited when she’s finding them randomly on the street, in cafes, at arenas, and airports. She gets especially excited whenever she finds one while they’re in a different country. Scott doesn’t know where she puts them—he thinks she’s probably got them stored away in a drawer somewhere and there must be hundreds at this point—but it makes her happy and that’s all he wants, especially when they’re at a competition or having a particularly tough day.

 

Scott isn’t superstitious, not really. He leaves that all to Tessa because he knows how important they are to her. If he spots a penny, he won’t pick it up, but he’ll make an excuse for her to come over and let her find it herself. He feigns surprise and watches her in amusement as she inspects it and shows it off. It makes him smile when she sees how excited she gets.

 

She shows him every single one, but she’s never found another penny from 1987.

 

He likes that.

 

They are asked in countless interviews about pre-skate rituals and he lets Tessa explain hers. He just tells reporters about the importance of their hug and, occasionally, he mentions how he only wears new socks at competitions but usually the focus is on Tessa’s safety pin or the order of her skates. She mentions the penny thing in a few interviews but never mentions Scott’s penny. That’s just between them.

 

But he doesn’t tell anyone, not even Tessa, that he slips his penny in his right skate before every competition, like Tessa keeps her grandmother’s necklace in hers.

 

He’s not superstitious but this one is just for him.


	3. words of affirmation

Tessa’s hands are shaking and she’s tapping her pencil nervously against her Psychology textbook. There’s a final this afternoon and she’s starting to panic that, between her training commitments and competition schedule, she hasn’t had enough time to study as much as she wanted.

 

It’s times like these she wonders if she made a huge mistake trying to balance both skating and school simultaneously. She’d heard it all from her parents, from Marina, from Igor, from her mental coaches. _Don’t spread yourself too thin,_ they’d all told her, but her mind was already made up. Her degree had been a fallback option for her as well as an opportunity for her to pursue academic interests. When the pain in her legs became too much and she had been diagnosed with compartment syndrome, it had then became a very real path that she could forge for herself. Just in case.

 

They had won the Olympics last year and it was followed by her surgery and then recovery time where she threw herself into her studies so that she wouldn’t have to think about a life without skating.

 

A life without Scott.

 

Scott has been the only one of them not to express his concerns about her split interests. Rather differently, he’s been so encouraging about her academic pursuits that every time she begins to have doubts, he’s the one to shake her out of it and tell her she got the brains for both of them so she’s got to use it.

 

Scott just wants to skate. It’s running through his veins. He was made to be on the ice no matter what discipline he chose. She knows that, for him, school hadn’t been an option beyond the compulsory requirements. He had hated high school but loved the social side of it. Despite her being two years younger than him, she would sit with him by the rink and help him go over some of his English homework. It’s not that Scott was dumb, although he sometimes played up that part for the cameras, but he just wasn’t interested. It was simply a thing he had to get through to be able to skate for the rest of his life.

 

On the other hand, Tessa loved being in school. It was an area in her life where she could push herself beyond just being a skater. It opened up a world of possibilities and let her think about something other than the ice.

 

Her phone lights up with a text massage.

 

_Good luck on the final T!!! Remember if u don’t know the answer just choose B_

Tessa chuckles to herself as she reads the message to Scott and types out a message back to him.

 

_Thanks! Except its not multiple choice so ur logic is flawed._

It doesn’t take long for him to reply.

 

_That’s why u got the brians Virtchhhh_

And a second later, another:

 

_I meant BRAINS obviously!!!_

Tessa shakes her head, holding back a laugh. She takes a long sip of her coffee to try and calm her nerves.

 

_Thanks! Well I’m gonna go and flunk my final now_

She adds a crying face emoji to emphasize her point. Scott hates emojis with a passion and refuses to use them, but Tessa will send messages comprised of _just_ emojis and Scott always tells her to use her words. _You know a million of them, Tess. What are two dancing girl emojis and a coffee supposed mean?_

Tessa returns to her book and tries to focus on the case study but her phone buzzes twice.

 

_T!!! Believe in urself._

_I believe in u_

Tessa’s heart flips. It’s eight words but Scott knows exactly how to instill confidence in her. She’s halfway through typing out a message back (all emojis just to annoy him) when her phone rings in her hand and Scott’s name flashes up. She answers immediately.

 

“You’ve got this, Tess!” She hears Scott all but yell into the phone. She’s glad she decided to study at the café instead of the library. He sounds exhausted and she wonders where he is and what he’s been doing. “You’ve been working for this for a long time and I know you’ve got it all in that big, nerdy head of yours.”

 

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” she grins into the phone. “Where are you and why do you sound so out of breath?”

 

“I’m at the gym,” he says. “I just lifted like 350lbs.”

 

She rolls her eyes. “And where are you _really_?”

 

“I was vaccuming.” He confesses. She laughs again, feeling her muscles begin to relax. “I wanted to call and let you know that I’ve got your back and I know you’ll be amazing.”

 

“Are you going to come over and give me The Hug too?” She jokes.

 

“I will if you need me too.” He replies and she can tell by the tone he actually means it. “You doing okay, kiddo? Joking aside, you’re good, right?” He asks.

 

Tessa lets out a frustrated groan. “I don’t know. I keep thinking I’m going to turn over the paper and it’s all going to be stuff I don’t know because I missed it and forgot to catch up, or it’ll be a different language or something.”

 

“Tess,” Scott sighs into the phone. “You’re the most organized person I know. You find the details in everything, I’m sure whatever is on the page, you’ll know it. And if it it’s all too much, take a few moments to close your eyes and breathe slowly for thirty seconds, okay?” He demonstrates over the phone. “And if that fails maybe imagine everyone in their underwear?”

 

“I think that’s if you’re scared of public speaking,” she reminds him, even though she knows he knows and he’s trying to lighten the mood and get her mind off of everything.

 

“It might help!” He replies.

 

“Thanks, Scott.”

 

“Tessa, you’re the smartest person I know. No-one else could be able to skate as perfectly as you do as well as understand all that brain stuff. You’re too good for me already and I’m hoping that one day you realize it because you are destined to be the most fashionable ice-dancing psychologist there is in the world. Actually, maybe I don’t want you to realize it because you’ll probably leave me.”

 

“You’ve been stuck with me for fourteen years, Moir. It’s going to take a lot more than a final to break us apart.” She tells him.

 

“I’m proud of you for doing something for yourself. I know that we’ve had a lot of pressure on us for a while, most of which we wanted and asked for, but going to get your degree is the bravest thing you’ve ever done and I’m so happy that it’s yours. You deserve this.”

 

Scott has always been the one to support her on and off the ice. He’s so good at knowing what to say, making sure she feels safe, confident and happy. Since her surgery, he’s been extra attentive and encouraging. She really doesn’t know what she did to deserve someone like Scott in her life.

 

A quick glance at the time reminds her that it’s time for her to go. She says goodbye to Scott, who is still telling her how amazing she is, and heads to her final.

 

By the time she’s sitting at the desk and the paper is placed in front of her, the nerves are beginning to hit again. She can’t call Scott now but she puts her hands on the desk in front of her and closes her eyes. She takes a deep breath in and then slowly exhales out. Tessa swears she can almost feel Scott beside her, holding her hand and whispering affirmations in her ear.

 

Her heart rate slows down and she feels the fog in her brain clearing. She turns over the paper and begins.

 

\---

 

Retirement is something Tessa is still getting used to. Well, semi-retirement. They’re not competing but they’re still skating together; although it’s been a while since they have.

 

They’re still deciding if they want PyeongChang and 2018 still feels like miles away, but she knows if they want to have a real shot at it, they’re going to have to start talking about it more seriously.

 

Right now, her priorities are sponsor commitments and completing her degree. Still.

 

She’s got a big meeting today for her jewelry line and then a few interviews, and is spending four days at their head office in Saskatchewan to fulfil them. Her new venture is still something she’s exploring but she’s enjoying it so far, finding joy in the new challenges she’s presented with.

 

One of the challenges is doing it alone. There’s no Scott by her side, cracking jokes as they head to the airport, offering to carry her suitcase for her (she always says “no” but he still wheels both of their suitcases if he can get away with it). There’s no Scott to lean on when she’s tired or to complain to when she’s hungry. It’s just Tessa Virtue.

 

She has no idea what Scott is even up to these days. She knows he’s in Ilderton but she has no idea how he’s spending his days. The last time she saw him was over three weeks ago and the last interaction between them was a short text message exchange they had last week when she spotted him in the crowd at a Leafs game on TV.

 

_Stay sober Moir!_

 

He’d replied with o _k MOM!_ and she sent him four beer emojis as a reply. He’d asked what her schedule looked like for the next few weeks and she’d told him about her meeting and asked when he’d be free to catch up.

 

She hadn’t heard back but she’s been busy since then and she guesses he has been too. He’s got Kaitlyn now and she thinks it’s getting serious.

 

Tessa is twenty minutes early for the meeting so is waiting it out in a café across the road from the building. Despite her years of media training, where her answers were succinct, polished and could be easily chopped up into neat little soundbites, she feels like she’s floundering when she tries to express her thoughts eloquently. She feels the nerves beginning to build and tries to shake them. She can’t go into the meeting all flustered just because she’s used to another person next to her; someone who can help her finish her sentences and knows exactly what she’s thinking.

 

Tessa can feel herself getting misty-eyed thinking about doing it all on her own, if this is what retirement and the rest of her life looks like.

 

She’s used to Scott’s pep talks on the boards by the ice before a skate. She’s used to hearing those words: _Trust our training. We’re ready for this. We deserve this. We’ve worked hard. Let’s enjoy it. Let’s do it for us._ She writes them down on post-its and sticks them all over her house. A little piece of Scott with her when he’s not there.

 

Tessa lifts her coffee cup to her lips and pauses. A manicured nail fishes out what looks to be a hair from her half-drunk coffee. She makes a face and pushes the cup away. It was making her feel sick anyway. She thinks about calling him, just to hear his voice and tell her she’s being silly. She hates that she, at twenty-five, can’t go to a meeting in a different city and meet dozens of new, important people all by herself.

 

Instead she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in. Exhales slowly out. In. Out. She does it three times, thinking of Scott the whole time. What would he say if he was with her? He’d probably be asking her if this was a hair in the coffee.

 

As she finds herself feeling more centered and ready to face the corporate world, her phone buzzes with a succession of messages.

 

_Hey! I think its ur big meeting today!?? GOOOOOOD LUCK!!_

_Hopefully ur not in the meeting and i didnt get u into trouble._

_I just wanted to say that u kick ass and i believe in u._

_Youre the BEST PARTNER ever and when u get back I want to see u. it’s been too long without seeing ur face._

_also im thinking of growing out my hair and want to run it by u. important things happening here too!_

He even sends a message comprised of emojis featuring a thumbs up, a fingers crossed sign and a figure skate (for luck!). She feel herself glowing and can’t help the smile creep up on her face.

 

As she leaves the café, she types out a reply.

 

_Thanks for the support, Moir! Let’s def meet up when im back! It’s been too long. I get back on Friday._

 

_ALSO DON’T DO ANYTHING TO UR HAIR UNTIL IM BACK. u know it grows back funny._

 

Tessa practically skips up the stairs to the building.

 

She’s definitely got this.


	4. quality time

It’s a rare Sunday where neither of them needs to be at the rink, or at choreography, or at therapy, or at the gym. It’s a rare Sunday, after a particularly difficult week of training, where they don’t _need_ to see each other. Their individual Tessa time and Scott time.

 

At least that’s what their team had planned. They had painstakingly created a comeback plan for their next two years, balancing training with media appearances, scheduling in family time to keep morale up, devising meal plans and countless other appointments.

 

Scott sometimes felt that every minute was accounted for; there was always somewhere they had to be, someone they had to meet, a schedule to have to consult.

 

Not today.

 

Tessa and Scott don’t have to spend a single minute of their day together today. Tessa can sleep in until an hour that makes her mother balk; Scott can watch _Bloodsport_ fifteen times in a row in his boxers if he wants.

 

Nobody expects anything from either of them today.

 

But Tessa unexpectedly shows up at his doorstep at 10am with a pasta maker in one hand and a six-pack of beer in the other.

 

“Cheat day!” She cries happily as Scott opens his front door bleary-eyed and hair mussed. He’s still in his boxers and rubs sleep out of his eyes to let Tessa in, groaning when she playfully pokes him in the stomach.

 

“T, what’s going on?” He follows her as she beelines for his kitchen.

 

“My mom sent me a pasta maker. I thought we’d try it out.” Tessa takes off her jacket, draping it lazily over a chair. Knowing that it’s probably expensive, Scott picks it up and hangs it up for her before watching his skating partner grab some mugs out to make coffee.

 

“Did you happen to be visited by three ghosts last night?” He asks. Tessa throws a spoon at him and, despite only having woken up, he manages to deflect it. It clatters to the floor and Scott scrunches up his face at the noise.  

 

“It’s a brand new day, Scott Moir. There’s nothing on our schedule except whatever _we_ want to do. And _I_ want to make some pasta and share it with you.”

 

Scott studies the pasta maker on the counter. He’s vaguely seen the contraption before but he knows that it’s not as simple as it seems. “You can barely make eggs; how are you going to make pasta from scratch?” He asks. Tessa ignores him by turning the radio on and the volume up. It’s playing Hall and Oates and Scott immediately wants to run for the hills. He must still be asleep; this is a waking nightmare. “Tess…” he groans into his hands.

 

“Go have a shower and come join me,” Tessa tells him and Scott mishears at first. He thinks _she’s_ inviting _him_ to shower _together_ and he blushes.

 

“What?” He asks dumbly. She raises an eyebrow and points towards his bathroom.

 

“Go shower. Or throw some clothes on because I can’t take you seriously in your boxers.” She waves her hands in front of her face as if she doesn’t want to see it. “And hurry because I’m not taking on this thing without you.”

 

Two hours later, Scott has his head in his hands and Tessa is singing along to ABBA. Tessa’s the analytical one and, while she doesn’t have much culinary aptitude, she’s great at following instructions. She’s been ordering Scott all morning but he doesn’t mind because, dammit, he’s going to master this machine if it kills him.

 

It may just.

 

But they’ve got the beginnings of something _resembling_ pasta; it actually might even be edible. Tessa suggests they try to make ravioli but Scott looks at her like she’s insane. Tessa’s feeling ambitious and Scott just wants to eat something.

 

It’s been a long week of training. It’s that frustrating stage of choreographing their new programs where there are too many ideas but not enough decisions and it feels endless. Scott’s favorite feeling is when the program starts coming together, when he can feel the parts slotting into place and the joy of hitting all the elements. He loves the moments when he can visualize the steps in his mind and how it comes bursting out of his skin the minute he and Tessa hit the ice.

 

They’re not there yet.

 

The problem has been compounded by the fact that he and Tessa have been arguing pretty much the whole week. They haven’t been able to agree on the music arrangement and he hates not being on the same page as her. It’s been combative, not collaborative, and when he and Tessa fight it means that there have been a lot of stony silences all week.

 

It still feels new working with Marie-France and Patch and they’re all still trying to get used to each other’s dynamics. Add in the fact that Scott has been feeling a little homesick lately, and it is not a very conducive environment to be working in.

 

But here, right now in his kitchen, Tessa is doubled-over with laughter and Scott can’t help but laugh along with her. There’s flecks of flour in her hair from where she’s untied and retied her hair throughout the morning and a small patch of raw pasta stuck to the side of her jaw. Judging from the amount of flour on his own sweatshirt, he knows he’s probably not faring any better, but she looks beautiful and her eyes are sparkling with joy. Sure, most of his kitchen work surfaces are covered in flour and there’s a pile of dishes in his sink that he’d rather not look at, but he’s never felt happier and he can feel the frustrations of the week pouring out of his body.

 

“Sorry for being such a jerk this week.” He tells her when she hands him a glass of water. Tessa pauses and considers the apology for a moment.

 

“I’m sorry too.” She says. “I know I wasn’t easy to work with either.”

 

“No, it was my fault. You were right about the music and I was just being a pain in the ass because… I dunno, I just was being a pain in the ass.”

 

“Scott,” she cuts him off. “I don’t want to talk about skating right now. We’ve apologized and I think we should just brush it under the carpet and start the next week over fresh.”

 

Scott is pretty sure it goes against a lot of what their vast number of therapists and mental coaches over the years have told them. They’re all about sharing feelings and being honest with each other about everything, but he knows Tessa’s right. They were both being jerks and not listening to each other, and they could go over and analyze it all to death, but there are some moments where they simply need to push it aside and forgive each other.

 

He nods in agreement and nuzzles her shoulder briefly as a show of peace.

 

“So was your mom drinking when she send you this pasta maker?” He asks suddenly. Tessa chuckles. “I think Kate really overestimates our abilities.”

 

“She asked me if I needed anything for my apartment and I casually mentioned how much I’ve been craving pasta lately. I guess she saw it and thought of me.” There’s something in her tone that Scott notices and he realizes that she’s also been having trouble adjusting to their new life in Montreal.

 

“It’s sweet of her to send it. Even if it’s a torture machine.” He quips.

 

Tessa laughs again, a genuine guffaw that makes him smile automatically, and he realizes that what he missed most this whole week was the sound of her laughter. Even if he’s miles away from his family and constantly questioning this whole insane ‘comeback’ idea of theirs, the one thing that feels like home is Tessa.


	5. physical touch

Their job is to touch each other.

 

It’s quite literally ninety percent of their job description, and it has been since she was seven years old. That’s a lot to put on someone so young. The pressure of always having your partner a fingertip’s length away. Always needing them close.

 

She knows that one day she will have touched him for the last time. She wonders if she’ll know that it’s the last when it happens. That maybe there will be a voice in her head telling her, pleading with her: _This is it! Hold onto it. Don’t let go._

 

A couple of therapists have already broached the subject with her. What to do with the absence of her partner. A partner she’s been side-by-side with for decades. She tries to avoid those conversations. It’s a possibility she doesn’t want to consider but it’s an inevitability.

 

They’ve come close before. Before her first surgery when they parted awkwardly, both scared that it was the end but neither wanting to discuss it. And then that horrible period afterwards where neither of them talked or saw each other for months. They call that The Drought.

 

Tessa didn’t know then if she would come back to skating. She didn’t know if the next time she saw Scott would be to hang up her skates, shake his hand and wish him luck with whoever’s hand he’d be holding next.

 

It didn’t happen that way, thankfully, but when she returned to the ice, he held her differently. Like she was fine China. She hated it. She wanted him to touch her like he had for the ten years before that. Where he didn’t have to ask “is this okay? Can I hold you like this?”

 

Eventually after several months—and several more therapy sessions—his hands refamiliarized themselves with her’s. He held her more confidently, more safely, just _more_.

 

Scott’s touches are different to everyone else’s she knows. Hugs from her mom aren’t as tight, high fives from her brothers don’t feel any more jubilant, massages from physiotherapists aren’t as soothing.

 

Kisses from her boyfriends aren’t as...

 

She slams the brakes on that particular train of thought and wills herself to snap out of it.

 

Scott is just like anybody else she loves. No more, no less.

 

Except it is more.

 

Because everything about their relationship is more. More intense, more tender, more confusing, more reassuring. It’s everything she understands and even more that she doesn’t.

 

Of course they’ve _tried_ to talk about it. There have been countless coaches and therapy sessions and, god, even seminars about their partnership. They’ve tried reclassifying it as a close friendship, as a business partnership, as a sports marriage, but it’s none of those things. It’s just how they operate. Tessa doesn’t know how to have this relationship any other way. Her bones have been trained to touch him always, like neighboring trees whose roots intertwine and grow together.

 

Their relationship is praised and scrutinized. Aspired to and ridiculed.

 

She’s aware that people don’t get it, even Meryl and Charlie, who have been skating together as long they have, don’t get it. She remembers seeing Meryl rolling her eyes once when another skater asked about Tessa and Scott.

 

“Who knows? I don’t think they even do.” Meryl had said in a hushed whisper. “They’re so weird about it.”

 

It had hurt Tessa then and sometimes it still gets to her now.

 

Was it really that hard to explain?

 

Probably, if even they themselves couldn't, still can't, explain it.

 

When she was in her early teens and a few months into training in Michigan, her mom came into her room during a visit home and awkwardly sat down on Tessa’s bed to give her ‘the Talk’. Tessa had been embarrassed and told her mom that yes, she knew about sex and all the risks, but her mom shook her head.

 

“It’s just that you and Scott are awfully close and I know that skating partners can sometimes feel things—” Tessa had held her hands over her ears.

 

“Mom, no!”

 

Her mom chewed her lip and tried again

 

“You have to touch each other a lot and you’re both so far away in Michigan. I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with. You have some very intimate lifts so I want you to be comfortable with them and talking about them with Scott. He should know what he can and can’t touch.”

 

She didn’t have that conversation with Scott, but the next time she saw him when they were heading back to Canton, she flushed pink and he’d laughed at her.

 

“Miss me that much, T?” He asked. He was seventeen but he still looked kind of like he did at nine. He hadn’t really hit a growth spurt yet, not like some of the other dancers at Canton, but she was still aware that he was almost a man, and it sometimes made her feel like such a girl.

 

He’d gone to help her with her bags and his fingers brushed against hers. She recoiled and he gave her a look before realization crossed his features.

 

“Oh, you got the talk too, huh?” He said. He looked down at his feet awkwardly. “My dad gave me one too. So did my mom. I’m supposed to respect you all the time.”

 

Tessa laughs. “Yeah, I got the same speech. Parents are weird, right?”

 

“So weird,” he scoffs.

 

But they avoid touching each other the whole ride home and it’s not until they’re back in Canton, back on the rink in their safe space, when he offers out his hand and she takes it. It’s only uncomfortable for ten seconds before they relax and are back to speeding around the ice, hands firmly together just like how they’ve always been.

 

\---

 

Scott’s body is like a map. Her fingers memorize the routes and follow them like rivers. She knows which places to touch when he needs reassurance or when he’s too tense. She knows that when she pats her hand on his thigh three times, when it’s just them on the ice and their music is about to start, that he’ll pat her thighs in return. _I’m here._

 

Their touches are like Morse code on the ice. Each one of them for a reason. _Look up. Together. Be present._

 

But it’s the touches that are off the ice that she likes best.

 

She likes when he casually takes her hand as they walk down the street. When he intertwines his fingers with hers because he wants to, not because they’re skating around a rink in a dance hold.

 

She likes when he taps her knee at dinner when their friends are being annoying or in the car when they’re singing loudly along to the radio.

 

She likes when she lays her head on his lap when they’re waiting in endless airports and he gently strokes her forehead with his thumb, soothing her to sleep.

 

Those are the touches she’ll miss the most.

 

She used to bank them away in her mind. Those ‘other’ touches. Ones that he didn’t have to do. She would pull them out one by one; replay them in her head when she was alone, when they were apart, when they weren’t getting along. She would count them in her mind, turning them over again and again.

 

Number #147. Michigan 2008. Lower back touch at the movies.

 

Number #233. Vancouver 2010. Forehead kiss in the cafeteria.

 

Number #441. Nice 2012. Shoulder nuzzle at the bakery.

 

She counted them all until eventually those touches became their new normal and she had force herself to stop because the vault was overflowing and she couldn’t differentiate them apart anymore.

 

Tessa doesn’t know if he realizes the effect he has on her. She would spend hours analyzing how he’d touch his girlfriends and compare them to the way he would touch her, keeping score. Did he ever see her with other guys and feel that pang like she did?

 

His touches have evolved over decades. Light and soft. Firm and safe. Rough and keen. She likes the feel of his fingertips pressing against her hips or the soft bite of his teeth against her skin. He’s less restrained with every passing year, and after twenty-one years together, they’re becoming more careless.

 

Tessa notices the way other people always watch them when they are together. How an eyebrow will quirk up in interest when Scott rests a hand on Tessa’s hip and strokes his thumb in lazy circles. It takes all of Tessa’s might not to smile in victory. Not to say to the world _this is mine and only mine_. That, of all his relationships, this is the one that he cherishes the most. She’s the one who he’ll always come back to because they’ve been brought up to need each other this way. How they need to keep each other close by, especially now when they can see the clock looming over them in the distance ticking away, taunting them.

 

_You won’t always have this_.

 

He’s asleep next to her, a new extension to their ever increasing level of touches. An arm wrapped around her waist, a leg tucked in under her knees, and pressed up against her like his life depends on it. He’s snoring softly into the crook of her neck and his nose feels cold against her skin. She curls her hand over his and gently rubs her thumb over his knuckles.

 

One day she will have touched him for the last time.

 

It’s not tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the kind words. It's much appreciated. I hope you enjoyed this small series.


End file.
